


The Purloined Package

by Sarahtoo



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Contraband, F/M, Fluff, Valentine's Day, but they don't care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 09:26:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13678890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarahtoo/pseuds/Sarahtoo
Summary: Phryne and Jack are enjoying chocolates in bed when it becomes clear that the treats’ provenance is dubious at best.





	The Purloined Package

**Author's Note:**

  * For [olderbynow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/olderbynow/gifts), [Kanste](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kanste/gifts).



> This didn’t quite turn out the way I’d planned―turns out that comedy is not my natural state―but I hope you like it anyway! A sweet treat for all of my Miss Fisher friends. Happy Valentine’s Day!

Phryne relaxed back against Jack’s naked chest, pulling the sheet up to her armpits, not out of modesty but because she had a different objective than titillating her lover. Besides, they’d both just come―twice, in her case―and now it was time for something else.

“I can’t wait to taste these. Don’t you agree, Jack?” Phryne snuggled closer as she lifted the cloth covering the box of chocolate truffles she’d liberated from his desk at the station. Their scent was divine, rich and dark with a hint of orange. Her eyes fluttered closed as she breathed it in, and she heard Jack’s deep inhale.

“Indeed.” Jack said dryly, his low voice vibrating deliciously against her back. “I knew you had sticky fingers, but this might be going too far.” He reached around her, his large hand wrapping around hers as he attempted to take the box away from her.

“Jack! As if I’d steal from you. Besides, I only wanted one or two.” With a pretty pout, Phryne surrendered the box. She supposed they _were_ his.

“The polite thing to do is wait till they’re offered.” Perversely, Phryne loved the exasperated tone of his voice. “But I do appreciate the gift.”

“What do you mean?”

“Aren’t they from you? They were with my lunch.” Jack cocked his head, looking down at her. He’d come out of an interview that had lasted a good forty-five minutes to find this box on the front counter. It had been sitting atop the basket that Phryne often sent with his lunch, and he’d assumed… The box suddenly looked more like contraband than it had a moment before. He hoped he hadn’t inadvertently stolen someone else’s gift.

“If I were going to give you chocolates, I’d do it in private, since it’s so much fun to watch you eat.” She smirked up at him. “I do admire your appetites.”

Jack’s mouth twisted smugly. He knew the appetites she meant, and she did seem appreciative when he showed how much he liked being fed. Leaning forward, he kissed her softly, loving the way her hand came up to cup his jaw and the soft sound she made.

“Besides,” she whispered when he lifted his head. “I merely wanted to be sure you’d share. Mr. Butler’s chocolates are not to be missed.”

“Mr. Butler’s? How can you tell?” Jack turned the box this way and that, examining it. It looked to be a pint fruit crate that someone had wrapped neatly in a clean towel. The truffles sat inside, round and gorgeous, a dozen or more stacked atop each other in a pretty jumble.

“I recognize the towel,” she said simply. “But if Mr. B was going to send them in your lunch―I assume that’s where you found them?” At Jack’s nod, she went on, “I would think he’d only send one or two, as part of your meal.”

Jack’s eyebrows came together and his mobile lips turned down in a frown. Phryne reached into the box to lift a truffle from the pile. Its cocoa coating was soft and powdery and the thin chocolate layer beneath it began to melt almost immediately from the heat of her fingers. 

“He is familiar with your appetite―for food, Jack―” she shot him an amused glance when he coughed “―so he might have sent extra for you to have at your desk.”

She went to lift the chocolate to her mouth, and Jack caught her arm. 

“But shouldn’t we ask if they were meant for me?” Now that he thought about it, Collins had been out of sorts after Phryne’s visit―what if the chocolates had been meant for his constable to give to his wife?

“I’m sure that he can make more if they weren’t,” Phryne said easily, twisting her wrist to escape his hold. She raised the truffle to her mouth, biting into it; the soft, fudgy center yielded easily to her teeth, and she let out a noise that was remarkably similar to the ones that she made during sex. “Mmm, Jack, you have to try this.”

Turning slightly, she lifted the sweet to Jack’s mouth.

“If they weren’t meant for―” The rest of his words dissolved into a moan of pleasure when she popped the second half of the confection onto his tongue. Jack’s eyes closed without his volition, and his own groan of pleasure started low in his chest. 

The dark, rich chocolate with its subtle orange flavor melted on his tongue, coating his mouth. His head fell back against the headboard, and he felt the tickle of Phryne’s hair as she nestled against his shoulder. His attention was completely focused on the texture and flavors of the sweet, and he chewed slowly, wanting it to last.

“Oh my god,” he breathed.

“Precisely,” Phryne murmured, her hand stroking his thigh through the sheet.

Lifting his head, Jack reached to set the truffle box on the bedside table, ignoring Phryne’s soft protesting sound. He plucked one more off the top of the pile and put it to his mouth, holding her eyes as he bit it in half. Her tongue slid out to moisten her lips, and he held out the remaining piece to her.

Phryne opened her mouth and Jack set the chocolate on her tongue. She closed her lips around his fingers, sucking softly, and watched as his eyes turned slumberous, his enjoyment of the sweet redirecting to something else.

“Mr. Butler,” he said, pulling his finger from her mouth to press gently against her bottom lip as she chewed, “is an artist.”

Phryne nodded, swallowing; she rolled her lips together, sucking the last remnants of flavor from them, and Jack’s finger slipped to her chin. 

“If I had to guess, Jack,” she said, turning her back to him and snuggling comfortably against his chest again, “I’d bet those were meant for Hugh and Dot. If they were intended for us, Mr. B would have served them here, on china.”

“Hmmm,” Jack wrapped one arm around her, the other reaching for the lamp that was the only illumination in the room. “We may have misappropriated them, you mean?”

“I’m finding it difficult to feel guilty about it,” Phryne admitted as the light clicked off and Jack’s other arm came around her. “After all, Mr. B would have made enough to share, and they do say that possession is nine-tenths of the law.”

“Well, far be it from me to argue points of law, Miss Fisher.” Jack’s hands began to roam, and Phryne smiled into the darkness.

“Oh definitely not, Jack,” she purred, her own hands going on an expedition of their own. “Besides, don’t you think we have better things to do?”

And Jack’s response, while nonverbal, was highly satisfactory. 


End file.
